


Of Wrenches and Worktables

by Xyriath



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mechanics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Getting Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 18:58:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5796052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out of everything that could have happened after Al's car breaks down on the side of the highway, meeting a cute mechanic is a pretty good outcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Wrenches and Worktables

**Author's Note:**

  * For [psyraah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyraah/gifts).



> Also written for Alwin day! Thank you, Psyraah, for the prompt!

“I don’t know what it’s _supposed_ to look like, brother!”

Under normal circumstances, Al’s voice wouldn’t resemble a wail this much, but two hours from home, a smoking car hood, and a series of _very_ nasty rumbling noises and sensations from his vehicle before he had pulled it to the side of the highway made for a very stressful day.

“Okay, I’ve got the engine pulled up on Google images—send me a picture.”

“My phone’s camera hasn’t worked for months!”

Ed made a frustrated noise from the other end of the line. “I keep tellin’ you to get a goddamn smartphone—“

“I don’t need one!”

“Well you sure as fuck need one right now!”

“Thanks, brother.” If anything could cut through his panic, it was the wilting sarcasm that Ed’s dramatics so often needed to keep him in his place. “I definitely called you for criticism on my telephone choices, _not_ for help with my car problem.”

“Hey, I’m _trying_ , but I’m still waitin’ on a new leg, so fuck if _I_ can come get you. And how else am I supposed to—“

Al jumped what felt like three feet into the air when the phone beeped loudly in his ear. He pulled it back, stomach clenching—

_5% battery. Please connect to charger._

Al placed the phone back against his ear, an aura of foreboding doom settling over him.

“—keep telling you we can split a plan; your phone fucking _flips_ , for god’s sakes—“

“Brother?”

Though Al’s voice was quiet, Ed seemed to take notice of the strangled quality, because he shut up immediately. “What?”

“My phone is—“

A sad little blip, and when Al pulled the phone away again, the screen of his trusty Nokia was dark.

“Oh,” was all he could say, voice faint.

He stepped back over to the lifted hood, staring helplessly at the unfamiliar jumble of machinery. Put him in front of a picture of the human body and he could name off any bone, muscle, or organ without a problem, but this…

Maybe med school hadn’t been as useful as he had thought it would be.

Al took a deep breath, lifting his hands to cover his face as he tried to settle his thoughts.

The sound of gravel crunching under tires distracted him, and he lifted his head.

A motorcycle had pulled up next to his car, and he watched as the rider turned off the engine and swung a leg over the side.

Good! They would likely have a cell phone, and might even be car savvy enough to tell him if he could continue to drive to the next exit.

“Hey!” Al jogged over, voice breathless—he had been panicking a little more than he had thought; that must be why he was so lightheaded—and lifted his hand to run it through his hair. “Oh, thank goodness, do you have a phone…”

The rider lifted two gloved hands to pull the helmet off—

And a mass of blonde hair slipped out, falling around the rider’s shoulders and down her back.

“Well you look like you’re in a pickle, don’t you?” she laughed.

“What?   No—I mean, yes, probably!” Al laughed a little nervously, trying to ignore the flush undoubtedly spreading across his cheeks. She was _cute_ , and while dating or girls (or boys, or anyone, really) hadn’t been much of an option lately—med school was a very demanding place—a guy could definitely look, as well as reconsider that policy. A leather jacket opened to reveal a black crop top, displaying a well-toned midriff that gave Al the sudden urge to do some crunches of his own. Though her hair was mostly tied back and the top was contained in a green head wrap, two thick locks had escaped and dangled down on each side, framing a cheerful face and expressive bright blue eyes.

“Looks like you’ve got a situation on your hands here,” she laughed, and Al could feel himself flush, face so hot that he hoped it would split the ground open underneath him so he wouldn’t have to stand there, looking totally incompetent.

“I… it was smoking,” he explained weakly. “And I don’t know what the matter is, and then my phone died…”

“You’ve really had a bad day, huh?” She was still smiling, and still adorable, and still _enchanting_ as Al just felt more and more ridiculous.

“You don’t have to rub it in,” he grumbled halfheartedly. “I was totally handling… sitting here and panicking.”

“I’m not rubbing it in!” She glared at him, though it was more faint exasperation than actual anger. “You—guys! You get so defensive about being helped by a girl! Gaping like a fish like I’m just here for fun—“

“No!” Al burst out, eyes widening, lifting his hands placatingly. Of course he would have given the wrong impression, staring like that. “Sorry! I appreciate the help, I do! I’m sorry, I just—I’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you are.”

She paused, blinked, and colored slightly. “Oh. Well then.” For a moment, Al worried that he had offended her and prepared to apologize if that were the case, but then he saw the slow, pleased, almost shy smile curving up her lips. “I’m Winry.”

“Alphonse. Al.” Thank goodness they were back in familiar conversation territory. “It’s—are you any good with cars?” he asked a little desperately. “Or if you have a phone, I can get it towed…”

“Do I know anything about cars!” Winry scoffed cheerfully. “Al, my family owns the best auto shop in the area. Do I know anything about cars.” She shook her head, the gravel crunching under her feet as she walked over, peering into the hood. “I know that this car should have probably been replaced before you were born. Jeez.”

“It was a gift!” Al protested, albeit a little weakly. “Would you have said no to a free car?”

“I would have _built_ my own car before I was caught dead in one of these.” She reached in with gloved hands and started poking around, asking where the smoke had been coming from, checking the oil (Al was eternally grateful that he had been sure to do so before starting on his trip, because _that_ would have been embarrassing), and other… mechanic things that had Al lost within moments.

He tried not to gape too much—that was rude, and _far_ too easy to misconstrue as creepy and overtly sexual, but appearance aside, there was something about her expertise and capability that drew him in, and he probably looked like an idiot with the way he was staring, but he couldn’t help how impressed he was.

And then—for a moment, he thought it might be his imagination, but no, she was definitely glancing over at him out of the corner of her eye, and that was a smirk, and then she arched her back a little more as she bent down to inspect… something.

And, okay, yeah, Al did a little bit of staring at the bare skin that Winry was now showing off quite artfully before he realized that he might be on his way to “creepy guy on the side of the road” territory, so he flushed and looked away.

At least, until the hood of the car slammed, drawing his attention back to Winry.

“So, I’ve figured it out, at least. Looks like a…” She trailed off, eyeing him a little critically, and then shrugged. “Let’s just say it’s a tube issue.   It won’t be a hard fix, but I’m not sure that we have the part on hand. I might have to order it.”

“How long will that take?” He tried not to fret at the thought of spending days in an unfamiliar—

“Couple hours? Shouldn’t be too long; there’s a place nearby that processes and delivers, easy. Though, we might have to take it back to the shop…”

“It’s rumbling, too; would the tube cause that problem?”

“Rumbling?” Winry frowned, crossing her arms. “I didn’t see anything in there that could…” She trailed off as something seemed to occur to her, and she turned on her heel and walked quickly over to the other side of the car. Al followed, peering, and stopped short when he saw what she did: his front right tire was completely shredded.

“Looks like you had a flat and kept driving on it.” She leaned over, observing, and Al was suddenly reminded of the 'bend and snap' scene in that Legally Blonde movie Ed's boyfriend liked so much (but without the snap part). “Spare?”

“In the trunk.” He fumbled for his keys and made his way over, pushing away his bags, but they soon discovered another unfortunate happenstance: the spare was flat, too.

Winry let out a low whistle. “Damn, you’re really having a bad day, aren’t you? If I had my truck, I’d pump it up, but looks like we’re gonna need to get it towed. Don’t worry, though; we can do it for cheap. If you don’t mind leaving it—I mean, I doubt anyone’s going to try to steal this anyway—I can give you a ride back, and I can look at it there?”

Al sagged in relief. “Yes. Thank you—thank you so much.” He grabbed his smallest bag, which contained his charger and a few other essentials, and shut the trunk again, heading over to lock the doors before he made his way back to the motorcycle. Winry lifted a helmet, measuring, then placed it on Al’s head.

“It’s a little small for you—not used to driving with guys so big—but it’ll do. It’s not a far ride.”

Al pushed it down onto his head. As she had said, it was a bit small, but he could handle it as long as the trip remained under twenty minutes or so.

“Thanks so much for doing this. Seriously.”

She just grinned and put her own helmet on, starting the motorcycle. “It’s no problem, not for someone as cute as you who thinks I’m the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen.”

Al would probably be kicking himself for saying that until the day he died, but at her urging, he sat down behind her and wrapped his arms tentatively around her midriff—her _bared_ midriff, he tried not to tell himself. A quick tug on her end had his large hands wrapped much more snugly around her, his chest pressed into her warm back as she leaned into him, stepping on the gas.

—

Of all the things Al had been expecting to do while waiting for his car and the part to arrive, Winry, naked and sprawled back over her mechanic’s table, legs wrapped around his waist as she breathlessly urged him deeper, was not one of them.

But she had initiated, encouraged, so it was the gentlemanly thing to do, right?

He obliged, pressing his lips against hers and sweeping his tongue inside as she returned the favor, her fingernails digging into the muscles on the back of his shoulders.

When he moved down to her neck, mouthing at the strained tendons there as she made an incoherent, desperate noise, he nipped slightly—though not too hard.

His hands slid from her sides to her back—was it all right? It needed to be supported—and she arched it obligingly. He mouthed down her collarbone, then her chest, kisses lingering at the rise of her breast before he ducked his head to take a nipple in his mouth, hips still thrusting steadily.

With the loud near-shriek she made, he smirked a little, sucking harder, nipping again slightly. He slid a hand downwards again, past her back, and gripped her backside, tugging her hips up towards him to get a better angle. He was possibly going to hell for this—he didn’t even believe in hell, but he was going—and right now, he didn’t really care.

“What if someone—“ he gasped, though he didn’t slow.

“No one,” she replied, just as breathless. “Still have a little bit.”

In that case, Al had _several_ ideas on how to fill that time.

And he soon found that Winry approved of them very, very much.

—

A couple of hours later found them dressed again—though Al still felt a bit rumpled—condoms disposed of, with the necessary car parts as they continued to converse.

“So you’ve been doing this your whole life, then?” Al asked, impressed yet again with—everything, really. Her skills, her history, the competency with which she worked on his car, her confidence and beauty; all of that just made her that much more amazing.

“Yeah, my grandmother actually owns the place.  I grew up on engines and wrenches.  Some kids have trucks and barbies--well, I guess I had both, just, the trucks were bigger than you'd think and my dad had to make me a special “mechanic barbie” outfit.”

Al laughed.  “That's wonderful.  I was always getting dragged along on my brother's crazy science experiments.  He's a nuclear physicist now.  I took a different path that's… well, just as hard, but even worse on your sleep schedule.”

“Lawyer?”

“Med school.” He chuckled again. “Feel free to question my sanity. Goodness knows I’ve been since I started.”

“Oh, trust me, I already have, but I’m not complaining.” She pulled her head out of the engine and smirked over at him. “Have been since I realized you had no idea that your tire was flat, actually.” She stuck her head back in, arching her back in a way, he realized, that _had_ to be practiced, because he fell for it hook, line, and sinker every time. “That’s so cool, though. I passed on college, because why did I need it, right? I knew more than even trade school could teach me before I was eighteen.” She paused, making a disapproving noise, and tugged… something unidentifiable out. “Lately I’ve kinda been wanting to try something else, though. Mechanical engineering. You know MIT has their courses all online?  Unfortunately, you actually need the piece of paper to prove it to actually get the job, otherwise I wouldn’t even bother. Kind of a pipe dream, but…”

“No, you can do it!” Al shifted forward in his seat. “My brother got in, actually, and I bet you could, too! With everything you’ve told me, you’d fit right in there.”

Winry beamed at him. “Thanks! Applications open soon, so I might have to send one in.”

“You should.” Al paused for a moment, gathering the courage to ask what he had been wanting to for a few hours now. “When you’re done, do you want to get dinner with me?”

She paused again, pulling her head back and blinking over at him. She was smiling, yes, but it seemed a little uncertain. “Really? You’re asking me out, even though you live… how many hours from here?”

Al shrugged, smiling a little sheepishly. “Gonna be honest, even if you lived nearby, we probably wouldn’t see each other that much anyway. I’ve already resigned myself to texts and instant messages and skype in the event I ever, well, met someone.” He hesitated. “If that’s all right. I don’t want you to think—“

“No, that’s totally fine!” She beamed at him. “All the boys around here are boring, anyway, and it’s not like I want to stay here.”

Al laughed at that. “You should tell my brother that; he says if I don’t try to be more interesting—oh, dangit—hang on, speaking of my brother, I was on the phone with him when it died. Can you give me a second to call?”

She waved him out, and Al headed back into the waiting room, grabbing his phone from where it was charging behind the reception desk. Picking it up and turning it on, he found ten missed calls and nearly as many voicemails from Ed. With the unconcerned press of a few buttons, he deleted them all, then dialed the number.

“You fucker!”

“Nice to talk to you again too, brother.”

“I was fuckin’ worried, okay! I thought someone had tried to kidnap you or something—“

“Well, you know, if you had let me finish a sentence, I would have told you that my phone was dying—“

“Yeah, which _still_ meant that you were stranded in the middle of nowhere—“

“I’m fine! Someone stopped and helped me out and let me a phone. She works at the repair shop I’m at right now, and she replaced the tire and is fixing the engine now.”

Ed was briefly silent, which set a couple of alarm bells ringing. “She? Al, you sound kinda smitten.” When he next spoke, Al could hear the smirk. “So? Are your prospects any good?”

“I’d say so,” he gritted out. “We’re going to dinner later, because I’m stuck here late enough, I might as well.”

“Oooh, dinner?” Older brothers were the worst. “Just make sure to be safe—“

“We were, okay!” He was so mortified and intent on cutting off that train of speech _immediately_ that it took him several moments to realize… he had completely given himself away.

“ _Were?_ Shit, Al, you guys—you banged her first, and now you’re dating?” Ed cackled, and Al had a sudden urge to ask Winry to invent some sort of device that allowed you to strangle people through the phone.

“We’re two hours away! And her name is _Winry._ ”

“Well, then invite her for a two hour car drive.”

“Someone said my name?”

Al jumped at Winry’s voice, and without another thought towards his obnoxious brother, he hit the “end” button, cutting him off in the middle of some inappropriate comments about dessert.

…To be fair, Al had made similar ones when Ed had suddenly found himself in a consistent relationship, but older brothers should know better.

“Oh, I was just…” Al laughed a little nervously. “My brother. He’s being an ass. He does that a lot.”

“Good, hang up on him, then.” She grinned, stepping forward. “Just letting you know that I’m done with your car, if you want to go to dinner now.”

“Din—yes! Yes, I’d like that!” He smiled back, excitement swelling in his chest.

“Just let me get changed and rinsed.” She winked, then turned to go—but then glanced back over her shoulder. “Oh, and Al?”

“Yeah?”

“You have a little something right here.” She gestured at her cheek.

When he lifted his hand and felt the smudge of oil lingering there, he felt himself flush crimson as Winry walked away, laughing to herself.


End file.
